


Molto Bene

by Beckymonster



Category: NCIS
Genre: Episode tag for 'Dog Tags', F/M, crossover (of sorts) with Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-17
Updated: 2011-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-27 11:07:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/295138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beckymonster/pseuds/Beckymonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His momma always told him that ‘eavesdroppers never heard good of themselves’.  Didn’t stop him from doing it though</p>
            </blockquote>





	Molto Bene

**Author's Note:**

> Please note - this story was originally written in June 2008 - It is not a crossover with _Doctor Who_. This is a story set in a ‘verse where everything is much the same as ours but … the good Doctor is on TV and the ladies and gentlemen of the Navy Yard aren’t.
> 
> For those of you who need a visual aid - [The ‘other’ Jethro](http://www.bbc.co.uk/doctorwho/medialibrary/images/800/s4_10_wal_06.jpg?size=800&promo=/doctorwho/medialibrary/images/main-promo/s4_10_wal_06.jpg&purpose=Computer%20wallpaper&summary=Wishing%20he%20had%20stayed%20behind.&info=&tag_file_id=s4_10_wal_06)  
> 

His momma always told him that ‘eavesdroppers never heard good of themselves’. Didn’t stop him from doing it though. In his job it helped him to find out things that were not only useful but could save lives as well.

Still, he wasn’t expecting to hear what he did when he walked into Forensics that morning.

Through the doorway, he could see Abby stood at her computer, back to the door, engrossed in whatever was on the computer screen. It wasn’t reflected on the plasma, so he couldn’t see what it was. Even so, voices carried through.

“Well, hellloooo Jethro!” Abby drawled, her usually husky voice sounding even more … sensual ... than usual.

“Dare I ask which ‘Jethro’ you are referring to?” Ducky asked, standing near her side, a definite smile in his voice.

“Did you see Doctor Who on Friday night?” Abby asked, Ducky must have nodded as she continued onwards. “The one with the knocking and the claustrophobia and the cute hottie called-“

“Jethro?” Ducky finished.

“Yeah! He was a gorgeous boy toy, all dark hair, cheekbones and puppy dog eyes. I wouldn’t say 'no' to being stuck in the middle of nowhere with him!”

“I had a suspicion that he might well be to your liking.” Ducky drawled, a thin bead of teasing in his tone.

“That’s not to say that I don’t love either of the other Jethros I know- ” she began, voice sounding apologetic. Not that Gibbs was feeling offended or anything. He was a realist; if he wasn’t a glance in the bathroom mirror told him everything he needed to know.

“I mean, Jethro dog is settling down well, he’s gotten McGee to move out of that ratty ol’ apartment and as for Gibbs…”

Gibbs was thinking that Abby had no room to throw stones where McGee’s living arrangements were concerned when he heard his name being mentioned. Gibbs thought about stepping closer to hear what Abby had to say next. He decided against it as that would set off the door mechanism, thus tipping his hand. It was part of the game; he was just waiting for his cue.

“Well… you know…” she began hesitantly. Gibbs could hear Ducky making ‘I do know, carry on’ type noises in the background.

“What with one thing and another in recent weeks I- ” she continued as Major Mass Spec blundered into the conversation.

“Oooo, got a whoop!” Abby noted all business again. “Bout time. Was running low on Caf-Pow too.

“I’m sure our beloved leader will oblige you- ”

“Oh I wish!”

“More Caf-Pow, my dear!” Ducky completed. Gibbs could almost hear the tutting in the older man’s voice. “Though I do think you’d best hide the pictures of his namesake.”

That was his cue for an entrance.

“Whose namesake, Duck?” Gibbs asked as he walked through the doors, careful not to show just how much he had heard. He glanced towards the computer monitor as he entered. Despite Abby’s lighting quick reflexes, hitting the space bar to change the screen, Gibbs caught a glimpse of a man with overly styled hair and an unlined face. A little voice in the back of his head murmured something about antitheses; he ignored it and placed the Caf-Pow on the desk in front of Abby.

“What have you got for me, Abs?” he asked, hovering closer to her than usual. He was real and pretty boy was not. Time was on his side.


End file.
